The Phantom of Smithson
by Duck Life
Summary: Maggie stars in the school's production of "Phantom of the Opera" while backstage lurks Smithson High's own poltergeist. Jaggie. Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

"Well, that wasn't so hard," sighed Maggie, striding out of the classroom.

"Are you kidding?" Jasper grumbled as he and Henry joined her in the hallway. "That was his most difficult quiz ever, and he only gave us a day to study."

"Maybe it would have been easier if you'd used that day to study instead of surfing iTunes," she retorted. Jasper ignored her.

"I blame Henry," he shrugged, earning an indignant look from his cousin. "Professor Darkness hates him so he takes it out on the rest of the class."

"His name is Professor Morneau, and it has nothing to do with Henry," replied Maggie irritably, adjusting the strap of her book bag. "Honestly, Jasper, if you concentrated, you'd be doing a lot better in that class."

"I guess," he said. "Seriously, though, when am I ever going to need to know the difference between a turkey vulture and a black vulture?" Henry opened his mouth to say something, but Maggie stopped him.

"He's speaking in rhetorical questions again," she explained. He frowned.

"Well, tell him to stop."

"Jasper, Henry says-"

"I heard him," said Jasper as they passed a flyer for the upcoming auditions for the school musical. Henry, upon seeing it, turned to Maggie.

"You should try out for that," he suggested. She laughed.

"Definitely not."

"But you love Phantom of the Opera," he persisted.

"Well, yeah, I love _watching _it, but I can't act or sing."

"You're a great singer!" he insisted as they walked into the cafeteria. It was packed- their ornithology quiz had made them late. Jasper stood on his toes and craned his neck over the crowd, seeking an empty table.

"When have you ever heard me sing?" Maggie asked, needing to raise her voice in the heavy din of the lunchroom.

"In the car," said Henry matter-of-factly. "You always sing along to the radio."

"Yeah… under my breath. How can you even hear that?"

"You're forgetting that Henry can hear a pin drop in… well, here," said Jasper, referencing the cacophony of the cafeteria. "Over there!" As they jogged to the table to reach it before anyone else, Maggie considered Henry's idea. She _did _love the play, and she knew that if Henry gave a compliment, he truly meant it and wasn't just trying to make her feel good. (False praise out of politeness was a trait he hadn't picked up in the jungle.)

"It still doesn't change the fact that I have no dramatic ability," she said as they sat down.

"Oh, anybody can act," said Jasper. "It's just living, but through someone else. And in front of a lot of other people."

"I guess," she said vaguely, pulling out a wrinkled paper bag.

"You know, it's ironic that this year's performance is Phantom of the Opera," pondered Jasper. Maggie groaned.

"Not this again," she said exasperatedly, pulling a Tupperware container full of salad out of her lunch bag.

"What?" said Henry.

"Your cousin believes the _insane _rumor that the Smithson auditorium is haunted."

"It's not a rumor!" he rebuked. "He lives under the stage and wreaks some kind of havoc whenever the school puts on a show."

"Havoc?" wondered Henry, glancing hungrily at the winding lunch line and deciding he'd wait until the line had shortened.

"Oh, you know, stealing the prop skull so Hamlet had to give his 'Yorick' speech to a volley ball, dyeing all the von Trapp's costumes orange, mixing the fake snow with glue so Scrooge and Bob Cratchit get stuck."

"Student theft, vandalism, dumb pranks," replied Maggie. "It's probably just a group of kids who hate theatre."

"Then why has nobody caught them after three years?" challenged Jasper. "And explain why the incidents only started after that fire in the museum."

"What fire?" asked Henry, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Before you got here," said Maggie, "there was a pretty bad fire when somebody dropped a cigarette in the planetarium. A few people died, and they almost closed the museum."

"See?" said Jasper. She rolled her eyes.

"Even if there _were _ghosts, which there _aren't_, why would somebody who died in the museum from a cigarette fire haunt a school auditorium?"

"Maybe he had something against acting," suggested Jasper. Maggie rolled her eyes again and stabbed a chunk of lettuce with her fork.

"By the way, if you guys don't get lunch soon they're going to run out."

"Right," said Jasper, standing up. He walked toward the slightly smaller line, accompanied by a dazed-looking Henry.

* * *

"So, the ghost-"

"It's _not _a ghost," said Maggie, glaring at Henry. They'd finished lunch and were on their way to Ms. Bronson's sixth period, which they all shared.

"The _entity_," he continued,_ "_behind all the problems is basically like the Phantom in Phantom of the Opera?"

"Sort of," said Jasper. "He calls himself the Smithson Specter. You know, why do people always use alliteration to scare people? It just makes their names more fun to say. Like Donald Duck."

"Or Bloody Baron," said Maggie. He stared at her.

"You're right," he conceded. "That is pretty scary."

"_Anyway_," said Henry, "are you going to audition?" She cocked her head to the side thoughtfully.

"You know, I think I might," she decided. Henry grinned.

"You'll make a great Christine," he said.

"Oh, I'm sure I won't get the lead," she corrected. "If I get in at all, I'll probably just be understudying for someone."

"You need to be more confident," he chastised.

"Actually, I need to be faster," she said. "The bell's about to ring and we're only halfway to class."

"Auditions are on Tuesday," Henry hinted.

"Okay, I'll try," she gave in.

"You better watch out for the Specter," warned Jasper, waggling his fingers at her in a menacing way.

"I've already survived one chandelier fall," she said, smiling. "I'm sure I can get through another."


	2. Chapter 2

The final bell rang, and students began pouring out of the school. "See you later," called Maggie, heading towards the school auditorium.

"We're not coming to watch?" asked Henry, surprised.

"_No_," she said strictly. "If I'm going to embarrass myself, I'd rather it not be in front of you two."

"We'll see you in the play anyway," said Jasper. "Why does it matter if we see you audition?"

"Will you stop it?" she snapped, yanking open her locker. "I'm not going to get in. They'll most likely pick somebody with actual talent."

"Well, that's the thing," he said, leaning against the wall beside her. "All the people that do have talent are too afraid to try out, but not you! You're not scared of any ghost-"

"That's because there are none!" she nearly yelled, causing the girl rummaging through her locker beside hers to jump. "Jasper, there is no Specter!"

"That's what you said about the Fortuna," Henry reminded her.

"I still say that was all coincidence." She sounded tired, and Henry wondered if she felt well enough to audition. "And so is this." She closed her locker gently and slipped her Algebra textbook into her bag. "It's all fear, myths, and stories invented to scare freshmen."

"I wonder what's going to go wrong this year," interrupted Jasper.

"Oh, I don't know," she sighed dramatically, her voice tinged with sarcasm. "Somebody will _actually _be suspended from the ceiling by his neck? Maybe the entire cast wakes up at midnight before the first show and there's a dead girl strangling each of them?"

"What?" said Henry. "A dead girl?"

"It's a dumb chain e-mail legend," explained Maggie.

"Chain mail?" he said. "You mean like armor?"

"Never mind," she said. Jasper and Maggie were accustomed to giving up immediately when it came to teaching Henry about the modern world. Though it didn't help him very much, it was far too tiresome for them to try and explain things such as the exact function of voicemail or what "lol" meant.

"So what song are you going to sing?" asked Jasper excitedly as they entered the theater.

" 'Think of Me,'" she said quietly. The sight of the ominous stage seemed to have numbed her with trepidation.

"We'll be cheering for you," warned Jasper.

"Don't," she pleaded.

"We'll be waving a big banner," he snickered, enjoying torturing her. " 'Maggie Is Our Angel of Music.'" She slapped his arm half-heartedly.

"Okay, I have to go backstage," she said, taking a deep but shaky breath. "_Please _behave yourselves."

"Maggie, relax," said Henry, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You're going to do fine." She exhaled.

"But what if I don't?" she whispered, suddenly shrill.

"Hey," he said, smiling, "whatever happens, you definitely won't be accidentally assisting in the kidnapping of a senator's son."

"Yeah," laughed Jasper, "_nobody _can mess up on that stage as much as Henry." She half-smiled.

"Okay, now I really have to go!"

"Deep breaths!" Henry suggested as she walked away.

"Say hi to the Specter for me!"

* * *

That morning, a thick knot of students was gathered around the school bulletin board. "I can't see the cast list," complained Maggie.

"We need to get these people to move," said Jasper, stating the obvious as usual.

"Um…" said Henry, looking around awkwardly. "Excuse me? Could you- we're trying to get through…"

"Not like that," he said, rolling his eyes and nudging past his cousin. "Eurgh," he groaned loudly, "I feel nauseous!" The crowd parted, worried teens stepping back to avoid ruining their shoes, and Jasper dragged Henry and Maggie through the opening to the board. "And that's how you part a-"

"I'm Christine!" Maggie shrieked.

"No, you're _Maggie_," said Henry, looking at her with concern.

"I mean I'm going to play Christine," she corrected patiently, jabbing her finger at the cast list. "I got the part!"

"That's great!" he said as she hugged both of them.

"Congratulations," said Jasper. "This has been your dream for almost three days."

"Maggie!" cried Becca, a girl they knew from homeroom. She'd been one of Shelley Wagner's more ditzy friends, and felt responsible for improving the fashion sense of anyone and everyone who walked through the school doors. She'd also auditioned for the part of Christine. "Maggie, I'm _so _sorry!"

"What are you talking about?" Maggie had some trouble dealing with the brain-fluff of Smithson- it was something she and Jasper had in common. She could almost hear his poorly contained laughter.

"The Specter always goes after the star," she explained solemnly. Maggie turned to glare at Jasper.

"Well, I don't believe in the Smithson Specter."

"You know, just because you don't believe in something doesn't mean it's not real," said Becca.

"Like Santa Claus," said Jasper, grinning.

"Exactly!" agreed Becca. As she walked away, Maggie turned to Jasper desperately. He held out his hand, and she smacked her face into it.

"What…" began Henry, staring at them blankly.

"Assisted facepalm," explained Jasper, but Henry just looked as perplexed as ever.

**A/N: Review! Keep in mind that I typed all this despite a badly sprained wrist and horribly bruised hand. **


	3. Chapter 3

Jasper sighed mentally and rested his head on his hands. The looping doodles on his paper (An excerpt of the lyrics to "Break Your Heart," accompanied by a cracked heart, and the word "BORED" in block letters) had occupied him for the beginning of class, and he hadn't heard a word of the tedious lecture from their annoying student teacher on whose every word Maggie was hanging.

"Maggie," he whispered, glancing to his left. She glared at him and returned to taking notes. He wished, not for the first time, that he shared this class with Henry. Sighing, he bent his head to write the next verse of "Break Your Heart".

* * *

"You weren't listening to anything Mr. Greenwood was saying, were you?" scolded Maggie was they left class.

"Not really," he admitted, shrugging. "And why is he 'Mr. Greenwood' now? Last year he was just 'Joshua'."

"Last year he was a student. Now he's a teacher," she replied, walking into Rooker Ryan. "Sorry."

"No problem," he smiled. "See you, Mags." He sauntered away uncharacteristically.

"Since when does Rooker call you 'Mags'?" asked Jasper.

"I'm not sure," she said, surprised. "I mean, he's playing the Phantom, but-"

"Wait, _Rooker _tried out for the play?" he said. She nodded.

"Well, so did I," she pointed out. "People who seem like the last possible ones to ever be in a musical can still do it."

"Oh my God," he laughed. "You're Troy and Gabriella." She raised her eyebrows and stared at him. "Um… I meant, you're like those NFL guys."

"Whatever," she giggled. "Anyway, do you think you could come over tonight and help me with my lines?"

"Sure," he said. "But why aren't you asking Henry?"

"Henry needs to work on his homework."

"What are you, his mother?" grinned Jasper. She opened her mouth to retort, but Henry, coming up to them, cut her off.

"Maggie!"

"What?" she asked.

"Can I get a soda?"

"You had one this morning!" she chastised.

"_Please_?" he said, stretching out the word.

"Fine," she conceded, and he ran off to the vending machines.

"Okay," said Jasper. "So… after school?"

"Yep. See you then."

"You do realize we have our next class together?" he reminded her.

"Right!" she laughed shakily, shifting her book bag on her arm. "And we're about to be late for it. Let's go." She hurried down the hall, Jasper trailing along in her wake.

* * *

"GO!" Jasper bellowed, facetiously knocking over a lamp to represent the falling of the chandelier. Maggie laughed. "I just ruined your opera," he said, indignant. "You're not supposed to be giggling."

"Oh well," she sighed, taking the script from him and tossing it onto her bed. "We got out of character anyway." He smiled. "Ugh," Maggie groaned, "I can't sing."

"What are you talking about?" he said. "You're a great singer."

"No, I'm not."

"Sing 'Hey, Soul Sister'," he commanded. She raised her eyebrows and shook her head. "Fine, I'll start. 'Your lipstick stains on the front door but my lips have brains-"

"What are you singing?" she snickered.

"Okay, so I don't know _all _the words," he admitted. As he reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes, he noticed the time on his watch. "Whoa, I gotta go! I told Henry I'd be home by six." He hugged her swiftly, slightly embarrassed when he realized he liked the way she smelled. Well, he always had.

As he pulled out of the driveway, Jasper's gaze lingered on the regal white house and the square of light on the second story.

* * *

That night, while Henry was fixing a rip in his hammock, Jasper lay on his bed, gazing at the ceiling. "This is amazing, what's happening to Maggie," commented Henry idly, looping a length of rope around his arm.

"Well, she was the obvious choice," he replied tonelessly. "Raoul and the Phantom are both in love with Christine, so they needed someone really pretty and stuff." Henry stopped weaving for a moment and looked up.

"You okay?" he asked, concerned. Jasper rolled over and sat up.

"Why'd she say no?" he lamented. "I mean, I'm not ugly or stupid." Henry cocked his head to the side. "A little support?"

"Oh!" he said. "I don't know why she said no. To be fair, I also don't know what we're talking about."

"When I asked Maggie out," he explained, rubbing his eyes wearily. "I mean, you know me. I'm not the kind of guy who asks out girls a lot. And the first time I do, she says no?" Henry was smiling. "Oh, _haha_, very funny, my life is a Justin Bieber song." He sighed. "Oh my God, my life is a Justin Bieber song!" he cried, crashing onto his bed.

Returning to his hammock, Henry said, "Better than a Taylor Swift song." Jasper popped up abruptly.

"You just referenced a modern singer," he said, his brow furrowing. "And you didn't seem confused when I brought up Justin Bieber."

"Yeah," he shrugged, not looking up.

"Who are you and what have you done with my cousin?"

"Hey, I'm learning," he said, sitting up. "And by the way, that phrase is really clichéd."

"Okay stop it, you're freaking me out," said Jasper. Henry laughed.

"I'm done with my hammock," he said, wrapping up his excess rope and tossing it into the corner, "so I'm going to sleep."

" 'Kay, me too," said Jasper, flipping off the light. He burrowed into his pillow and almost instantly dissolved into dreams of Christine Daae.


	4. Chapter 4

In the weeks that followed, Maggie prepared for the play with many rehearsals. She recited her lines to Henry and Jasper and practiced her songs everywhere she went until finally it was time for her first show. Feeling oddly exposed in Christine Daae's costume, she peeped out through the curtains, instantly regretting it. The theater was filled, a huge audience eagerly anticipating the musical. She felt a wave of nausea slide through her.

"Hey." Maggie jumped as a hand touched her arm and almost fell backwards in surprise. Jasper caught her. "Skittish much?"

"Don't sneak up on me like that," she said, gasping for breath. "What are you doing back here?"

"Helping Josh with tech crew," he said, jerking his thumb towards Mr. Greenwood, who was adjusting the curtain ropes. Maggie smiled wryly.

"Good," she said. "If you're working back here you won't be watching my hideous attempt at acting."

"I'm only helping out before the show," he said, grinning deviously. "I would never miss watching you forget your lines." She slapped him jokingly.

"I won't forget," she corrected him sternly. "I may- _will_- deliver them horribly, but I won't forget."

"Stop stressing," he said, exchanging his devilish smirk for a kind smile. "You'll be great." She tried to take a deep breath, but it caught in her chest.

"I'm shaking," she realized, trying to steady herself against him. "Jasper, I'm shaking. I can't go out there like this, I look ridiculous!" He took her shoulders, looking directly into her eyes.

"Just stay calm," he said. "Let go of everything else. Tonight you're Christine." She opened her mouth, standing frozen while she waited for her terrified heartbeats to settle.

"Thanks," she sighed after a moment. He immediately removed his hands. Maggie was collected, ready to walk out on stage.

"I'll be mouthing your lines from the audience," he promised.

"I know my lines," she replied, rolling her eyes.

"Then I'll be mouthing messed-up versions of them and trying to trip you up," he said. She laughed and watched, clinging to the curtain, as he walked away.

* * *

Jasper hurried down the aisle, hopping over feet and mumbling apologies and Excuse me's. He finally reached Henry and collapsed into the seat beside him. "Hey," he whispered. Someone sitting behind them shushed him. The school orchestra began to play, and dancers spilled out onto the stage. It seemed like an eternity of tedious choreography before he finally saw Maggie.

"Does she look nervous?" said Jasper, turning to his cousin. He knew her too well, knew how she was feeling, so he couldn't make any kind of impartial judgment on her performance. Not that he'd ever use that judgment, and especially not with her. He'd already decided that no matter what she did, he would congratulate her and assure her that she was amazing.

"She seems fine," said Henry. "Was she worried?" That note of nearly naïve concern slipped into his voice, as if he couldn't imagine anything bad happening to one of his friends.

"She was freaking out a little earlier," he explained. Maggie was about to sing, so they stopped talking to listen. Jasper watched, transfixed, as her usually quiet and soft voice filled the auditorium. Her hair was done up in elaborate curls, and her dress flowed around her like melting ice. She looked like a snowflake queen, though he knew that in actuality she was probably sweating under the bright lights.

"She looks pretty," commented Henry.

"Yeah," said Jasper, not tearing his gaze away from the stage, "pretty."

* * *

Jasper and Henry were the first ones to meet her backstage after the play was over. She was walking to the girls' dressing room, darting around other amateur actors and actresses to avoid running into their hugging families. Jasper called her name, and she turned around. "Guys!" she choked, swerving towards them.

"Maggie, you were great!" said Jasper. She flew towards him and wrapped her arms around him. "Okay, so we're hugging," he muttered awkwardly. She backed away, wiping her eyes, and took a bouquet from Henry.

"You're a perfect Christine," said Henry. She smiled.

"Thanks," she said, fingering a rose petal. "Oh my God…"

"Are you okay?" asked Jasper worriedly, extending a hand in case she fell.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," she said. "That was… that was…"

"It was," agreed Jasper. She laughed.

"So was I really good?" She looked up expectantly at her two best friends.

"Fantastic," said Henry. "You stole the show."

"Yeah, and I was planning on saying this anyway," said Jasper, "but now I'm not lying. You were awesome."

"Thanks," she said. "Okay, I need to get dressed. Meet me outside?"

"No, we're abandoning you," joked Jasper. She rolled her eyes and rushed into the dressing room. However, a minute later, she walked out still in her costume, carrying a second bouquet. She handed it to Jasper.

"You'll appreciate this," she said, shaking her head before reentering the dressing room. Confused, Jasper pulled off the card and held it up so he and Henry could read it.

_A brilliant performance, Margaret. _

_-Smithson Specter_

* * *

**A/N: So, does anybody else watch "How I Met Your Mother"? Italia Ricci (Maggie) was on the show in a very un-Maggie role. I just watched it and could not keep from laughing. The episode is "The Front Porch". **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: For those of you who don't know, the song played is "How Low" by Ludacris, and the line "Ludicrous… simply, ludicrous!" is from one of the songs in "Phantom of the Opera."**

"Well, nothing went wrong," said Henry cheerfully. After the play, Maggie had come with the boys to their house and was pestering them for critiques. "Specter-wise, I mean."

"Yeah, except for Maggie getting flowers from him," said Jasper, who was trying, unsuccessfully, to sit on Henry's hammock.

"You think I shouldn't have gotten flowers?" asked Maggie, spinning towards him. "I wasn't good enough for that bouquet?"

"No!" he said quickly. "No, I just meant that… that's not what I…" Sighing in defeat as she advanced on him, he flipped backwards and collapsed onto his racecar bed.

"Seriously, guys, what did I do wrong?" she persisted, looking back and forth between Henry and Jasper.

"Nothing," said Henry.

"Yeah," agreed Jasper, eager to make up for before. "You were perfect."

"Oh, you guys are so sweet," she gushed. Jasper wondered if Henry could detect the sarcasm in her voice. "Cut it out! Tell me what I did wrong before I hear it from the rest of the school."

"Your dancing was a little off," said Henry. Jasper turned to glare at him incredulously as Maggie rounded on him.

"What do you mean, my dancing was a little off?" she yelled. "Like you could do better? Ugh, I can't _believe _you, Griffin." She crossed her arms and stormed towards the door. Henry looked shocked and utterly clueless.

"You said you wanted us to tell you what you did wrong!" he said. She twisted around, furious.

"You weren't supposed to!" she snarled. "You were supposed to keep complimenting me and only talking about the good things I did. You _never _comment on anything I did wrong! Don't you know anything?" Muttering to herself, she slammed the door and stomped down the stairs. A minute later, they heard the front door slam, too. Henry turned towards Jasper, expecting a condescending explanation pointing out how unused to living in America he was, but he looked just as confused.

"Jasper-"

"I have no idea."

* * *

The next day, Jasper and Henry met Maggie at her locker. "I'm not interested in your groveling," she said without looking at them, shutting her locker door a little too hard and causing its contents to rattle.

"That's too bad," said Jasper sarcastically. "We had prepared a song and dance number."

"I'm sorry I missed that," she said, smiling a little. "And I really am sorry about blowing up on you guys last night. I'm just really stressed about the play, and-"

"We know," said Henry. He wrapped a hand around her shoulder to comfort her, but recoiled when he saw Jasper's reaction.

"Are you coming tonight?" she asked.

"Of course," said Jasper.

"Yeah," said Henry, "but you have to promise not to be stressed." He gulped, anticipating another shouting match. "And to not make us tell you bad things about your performance."

"Oh, I won't need to," she smiled. "Because I am going to own that stage."

"Are you… _quoting _me?" said Jasper as they walked down the hall.

"Maybe," she smirked.

* * *

Jasper and Henry were watching from the front row when the Smithson Specter decided to wreak his first piece of havoc. Maggie was at center stage when the orchestra was suddenly overshadowed by another, more modern song blaring out of the speakers stationed around the stage and the audience.

_But how low can you go?  
Lower than your mama's ever seen it in her lifetime,  
Never would've imagined it not even in her right mind._

Maggie, looking completely flustered, stepped back and stared at the speakers. Mr. Friedrich, the theater arts teacher and director of the play, leapt up from his chair. "Ludacris!" he bellowed. "Simply Ludacris!" Jasper was watching Maggie, worried about her freaking out. Surprisingly, she seemed fine. He was on the verge of wondering why she hadn't been launched into a panic attack when she revealed her sudden knack for improvisation.

"The chandelier goes low," she sang. "Lower than before." He laughed, actually grinning at her genius. She was brilliant.

_I could make this show stop._

Suddenly, the music was extinguished and a shrill scream pierced the stagnant air. One of the background dancers disappeared, dropping below the stage. Henry jumped up immediately, posed as if the jump onto the stage. Jasper put a restraining hand on his arm and watched as Maggie gave into that panic attack.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: This might be my last update until December. I'm attempting NaNoWriMo for the first time this year. If you're on there, buddy me! My name is the same as on here. **

Henry jumped out of his seat and dashed forward. Onstage, Maggie was staring down at the gaping hole in the floor. She'd put her hands on her head, which she always did when she was distressed. The crowd started to freak out, and Jasper heard one of the teachers yelling for everyone to stay calm. He climbed up onto the stage and raced forward, along with Henry. "What happened?" he asked.

"I have no idea," said Maggie. "One minute we were just doing the scene and then the music changed and everybody started spazzing and I started singing and then she fell and everybody started spazzing more and I- " Jasper grabbed her arm.

"Calm down, Maggie," he directed. Henry knelt beside the hole, peering down into it.

"I'm calm," she snapped. Jasper raised his eyebrows.

"The picture of ease," he muttered, looking around. The auditorium was still filled with its startled audience. "Why has nobody lowered the curtain yet?" He walked away, towards the ropes, and Maggie bent down next to Henry.

"Help!" the dancer whimpered from below. The hole went down several feet below the stage. She was crying, staring up at them, and her leg looked bent oddly.

"Don't worry," Maggie assured her. "There's a ladder backstage that goes right down there, we'll just go back there and-" Henry jumped down into the hole. "Or not."

"Are you okay?" said Henry. He recognized her by face, but not name. If he remembered correctly, she was in the grade above him.

"My… my leg," she choked. He leaned down to examine it. He knew what a broken leg looked like- he'd fallen out of a tree once in Namibia and splintered his leg badly. He tried to see hers, but a shadow was blocking his light.

"Jasper, move," he said, without looking up. The shadow dissipated.

* * *

Later, after everyone had left, Maggie, Jasper, and Henry were standing outside the dressing rooms. "She broke her leg," confirmed Henry.

"Man, that must suck," said Jasper. Maggie glared at him. "You know what I mean," he said. "A dancer breaking her leg, that's like a hand model breaking her… hand."

"I guess," said Maggie. "I think I'm going to stay here a little while to work on stage direction stuff. You guys should just go home, I'll see you tomorrow."

"KK," said Jasper. Henry cocked his head to the side. "Oh, KK stands for…" Jasper momentarily looked confused. "Actually, it doesn't really stand for anything." He shook his head, rubbing his bleary eyes. "Night, Mags!"

"Bye," she said, spinning around and walking into the dressing room.

When they reached the parking lot, Henry sighed and turned to his cousin. "You're annoying," he said.

"Your mom is annoying," Jasper replied automatically. Henry stared at him.

"_What_?"

"Sorry," said Jasper, yawning. "This whole Maggie crush thing has me slipping into my seventh grade habits. What were you saying was annoying about me?"

"That!" said Henry. "The Maggie crush thing. You love her, and yet-" Jasper held out his hand to stop him.

"Hey! Hey, hey, hey, I do not _love _Maggie," he protested. Henry folded his arms. "I like her… a lot."

"Fine," allowed Henry, "you like her but you won't tell her." Jasper nodded, pulling the Smart's keys out of his pocket. "Tell her!" He was becoming whiny, petulant about his two best friends' tentative relationship. "Tell her or I will." He spun around, furious.

"You wouldn't." Henry grinned and pulled out his cell phone.

"I'll e-tweety text her right now," he threatened. Jasper laughed.

"Then I have nothing to worry about," he said, swinging open the driver's side door of his car. "You couldn't figure out how to use that phone if I was holding a gun to your bongos." He paused, wondering if what he'd just said had really sounded vaguely dirty.

"You know, if you tell her, and it works out, you could get everything you've ever wanted since you were ten years old," he said. Jasper stared ahead thoughtfully. "Or," continued Henry, "I could just tell Uncle B about your junk food stash." He jumped out of the car.

"Fine!" he yelled, walking away. "I'll tell her, but if it turns out badly, _you _are the one who has to deal with me when I'm all emotionally depressed!" Henry waved, beaming. "And don't steal my car!"

Henry headed towards the sidewalk. "See you at home, Jasper!"

* * *

Maggie paced across the stage, avoiding the hole, thinking. She was analyzing motives, alibis, suspects. For some reason, the Smithson Specter bothered her. It bothered her that she couldn't prove it wasn't a ghost. It bothered her that she didn't know who it was. She'd stayed behind because she needed to think, to examine the scene of the crime. There was nothing to use as evidence. She'd even asked one of the technical directors about the Ludacris song coming through the speakers, but he had told her that, as far as he knew, no one had been in the sound booth at the time. No one but a phantom, apparently.

"Maggie?" She jumped, her hand flying to her neck. The voice had come from behind her. She whipped around, shrinking back. A man stepped out of the shadows. "What are you still doing here?"

"Mr. Greenwood!" she sighed, relieved. "Sorry, I was just, um… practicing." She narrowed her eyes. "What are you still doing here?"

"Locking in the sound system so that phantom guy can't get into it again," he groaned.

"Specter," she corrected, almost subconsciously. He smiled.

"Excited for tomorrow's show?" he asked.

"Worried," she said. "And nervous. And terrified."

"Don't be," he said, walking forward. He was still wearing his black tech crew uniform. "You were great tonight. That improv singing thing? Awesome!" She smiled shyly.

"Thanks." She looked down at her feet and frowned. "I can't dance, though."

"Sure you can," he said. "You can dance if you want to. You can leave your friends behind."

"Oh my God," she laughed.

"'Cause your friends don't dance, and if they don't dance, then they're no friends of mine," he finished. She rolled her eyes, still laughing. This was why she missed Joshua, why she was glad he was working here. Last year, he'd been practically the only student at Smithson who still listened to eighties music. "Seriously," he said. "It's just moving to the beat." He took her hands and showed her some of the footwork she'd had to learn. She copied it, grudgingly. Soon they were dancing together, moving back and forth across the stage. She was moving so fast there was no time to fret about tripping.

* * *

Backstage, Jasper was rushing forward, spiels of speeches and proclamations rampaging through his head. He didn't know what to say. A part of him wanted to tell her everything- the feelings, the yearnings, how every love song on the radio made him think of her- and another part of him wanted to turn around and go home and lie to Henry.

Partially because he wanted her to know how he felt, and partially because he was sure Henry would know he was lying, Jasper kept walking. He was so concentrated in his thoughts that he almost walked into Rooker.

"What are you doing back here, Barflett?" he asked, shoving him aside. Jasper rubbed his shoulder.

"Can you just leave me alone?" he hissed, trying to get away. He stopped, however, and turned around. Rooker was still standing there. All the other actors (except, he knew, Maggie) had gone home. He had no reason to be there. At least, no reason that Jasper could think of. Something was going on. "What are _you _doing back here?" Rooker squinted, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Nothing," he grunted, backing away. He turned and left. Suspicious, Jasper decided to dwell on it later. He had a reason for being here.

Unfortunately, that reason, he soon found, was on the stage dancing with someone else. Jasper stood there for too long, just watching her dance with Joshua. He remembered last year, when Joshua had been a senior at the school. Maggie had had an enormous crush on him- a lot of girls had. He'd never thought anything of it, but there she was, blissfully spinning in his arms. She looked so happy, carefree. It was like cutting himself, to stand there and watch, but he couldn't leave. Somehow he knew he'd never make her smile like that.

Depressed, sullen, and crushed, Jasper trudged back the way he'd come. He drifted through the halls, not really paying attention to where he was going until he found himself standing outside the entrance to the museum. He wanted to go in and just be alone, the only visitor to the museum, for a few hours, but he couldn't remember whether the new security was in action and he didn't want to get electrocuted again. He decided to just stand there and wait for the will to drive home.

Footsteps- pounding footsteps, running footsteps- manifested behind him. He jumped back just in time to see a masked figure dressed all in black dash into the museum. Jasper was frozen. He watched the door swing shut, then, cursing himself, he followed.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I just wanted to say a word about the worst news that I have received in the past month:**

**As I'm sure you all have heard, Unnatural History was cancelled by Cartoon Network. It's tragic, yes, but also an opportunity. For us. There is no more canon; we are left to invent the rest. The end of the show is not the end of the fanfiction, but rather its true beginning. We have so many loose ends to tie up! What was that roaring noise? Who won the election? What ever happened to Arianna Gish?**

**Keep imagining. Keep writing. I know I will. And, most importantly, always remember that: when you're open to discovery, the answer will be left. **

* * *

Back home, Henry was swinging in his hammock, struggling to focus on his Geometry homework. It made no sense to him- the variables and vocabulary and theorems became jumbled up in his mind and couldn't be distinguished as rational ideas. His cell phone rang. He tossed the homework on the floor and leapt across the room to answer it. It took him three tries. "This is harder than the Geometry," he muttered, finally finding the talk button. "Hey, Jasper."

"Hen," said Jasper on the other end, "the Specter is in the DOUM rooms. Get here now." Henry was shocked, and a little perturbed.

"I just ran home from there," he complained. He heard Jasper sigh with exasperation.

"Then take the hybrid," he said. "Just get to the museum."

"I'm on my way," he promised. He flipped his phone shut and sprinted down the stairs. After grabbing the keys to his uncle's car from the side table, he skidded out the door and disappeared into the dark night.

* * *

Jasper paced outside the door to the museum, jittery with anticipation and nerves. He wanted to hunt the Specter down at that moment, but to be honest, he didn't believe he could accomplish anything without his bat-ears, jungle-boy, can-fake-his-own-death cousin.

Finally, he heard footsteps behind him. "What took you so long?" he hissed as Henry jogged up beside him.

"Oh, you know," he said, "normal driving stuff. I might have had a wrestling match with the car radio." Jasper rolled his eyes.

"Convinced the machines are trying to kill you again?" he asked, moving towards the door. Henry followed him.

"Hey," said Henry as Jasper tentatively pressed open the door, "toaster is only one step away from psycho robot."

"Whatever," he grumbled under his breath, stepping stealthily into the museum with Henry close behind him. They stalked through the dark mausoleum of artifacts, the silhouetted outline of the monstrous dinosaur skeleton at the entrance becoming sinister in the darkness (though, to be fair, as a giant skinless lizard it had seemed rather sinister in the first place). "Crikey," said Jasper, "the museum is creepy at night." He stopped walking, replaying what he had just said in his mind.

"Did you just say 'crikey'?" said Henry, turning to face him. He wore an expression of pure incredulity, but also looked as if he were inches away from busting out laughing.

"Give me a break," he replied moodily. "I'm overtired and running on four cups of coffee right now."

"I lived in Australia for a year and _I _don't even say crikey," he laughed, the Specter forgotten for a moment as he basked in the glorious hilarity of making fun of his cousin.

"Just let it go!" hissed Jasper, turning his back on Henry and walking away. Henry rushed up behind him, and laid a hand on his shoulder, signifying that they should stop.

"Did you hear that?" he whispered, looking around. Jasper sucked a gulp of air into his mouth and held it to avoid whatever Henry was hearing from being overshadowed by his breathing. He listened carefully, but he was certain that the noise would be easiest identified by Henry.

"What was it?" asked Jasper quietly.

"You saying crikey," said Henry. He cracked up again, rumbling belly laughs that were usually reserved for National Lampoon movies and Youtube videos about animals doing people things.

"Oh, shut up," he grumbled, arguing with himself over whether it would be a good idea to kick Henry in the shin. He decided that any argument they had was safer if it stayed verbal, because he knew that if he was brainless enough to get in a fight with Henry Griffin he would end up on the floor with several broken limbs within seconds.

"I'm sorry," said Henry, obviously mature enough to remember the task at hand.

"No, seriously, shut up," said Jasper, cocking an ear to the west wing. "I actually did hear something." Henry looked around, his trained ears catching every slight sound.

"Over there," he said in a low voice, pointing. Jasper followed his gaze just in time to see the door to the DOUM room mail shed slam shut. Henry ran towards it and Jasper followed.

"Why do they always go the DOUM rooms?" he asked, reflecting on the unlikelihood that among the vast majority of locations and rooms and crannies in the complex the same place kept coming up. "I mean, does it just attract psychos? Overdorf, Fitzgerald-"

"Hey, what about me?" said Henry, sounding hurt. It was true that he spent most of his time in the Division of Obscure and Unknown Miscellanea.

"You were included in the psycho category," Jasper informed him, pushing open the door with Henry close behind him.

"Hey!" he complained.

"Well, who folds their socks singularly?" said Jasper. "It's insane!" He looked around the shed just in time to see the door to the warehouse swing closed. As they dashed across the disorderly room, Henry realized who was missing.

"Why isn't Maggie here, too?" he asked as they entered the DOUM rooms. They could easily hear footsteps near them, so they chased the unknown creator of the echoing impact sounds.

"She's… she's busy," he said, unwilling to get into it both because he was reluctant to admit how upset he had been upon finding Maggie with Joshua and because they were currently jogging through aisle after aisle of precariously stacked wooden crates in pursuit of the person/possible ghost that had been tormenting their school auditorium for three years.

"Doing what?" asked Henry skeptically, and the thought _Joshua Greenwood_ came unbidden to Jasper's mind. Just thinking about them dancing together was painful enough; he didn't need to be making innuendos.

"Going through her spam," said Jasper, turning sharply around the corner of a large box. Ever since the whole Tamba incident, the two used Maggie's unwanted e-mail as a sort of unofficial code for "with a guy."

"Oh," said Henry understandingly.

"Yeah," said Jasper, still not wanting to talk about it with Henry.

"So I'm guessing you didn't get a chance to tell her about the whole you being in love with her thing?" assumed Henry. The footsteps had quieted, and he was distracted in his interrogation of Jasper as he paced around a section of the cavernous warehouse.

"Not really," replied Jasper. He leaned against one of the towers of boxes and ran his fingers through his hair, already exhausted of chasing down the Specter.

"Who was she-" Henry began, but Jasper cut him off. Chasing the Smithson Specter was not the only thing that he was tired of.

"Look, we really don't have time to be talking about Maggie right now, what with the whole 'we're chasing the Specter' deal, so why don't we put off this conversation until we get home?" Honestly, he was so ready to curl up and go to sleep that he would have collapsed into Henry's hammock at this point. In just the past few hours, he had witnessed the sabotage of a play, watched the girl of his dreams spinning happily in the arms of someone else, and ran through an empty museum in dashed hopes of catching the orchestrator of the aforementioned sabotage. He was ready for the day to be over, and though he hoped that he would not dream, he suspected that he would anyway. Hope had not been very accurate for him in the past few days.

"Okay," said Henry, "but I'm not letting this drop." The pounding of the Specter's footsteps suddenly started up again, and then with the clank of a door which must have been to the mail shed, they disappeared. Jasper realized that it could not be a ghost (not that he had ever seriously considered it), or at least if it were, it was one of those ghoul/monster/zombie sorts of ghosts that had an actual form. There were several fictional accounts of ghosts, and even more supposedly true accounts from gullible crackpots. Every one of them said something different about ghosts, and he was sure that at least half of them mentioned something about ghosts actually having a physical form. If the Specter _was _ethereal, otherworldly, it at least had the ability to open doors and make noise.

"I didn't expect you to," admitted Jasper. He walked with Henry towards the mail shed, towards their separate cars and, finally, the room that they shared waiting with a rope hammock and a comfortable mattress.

**A/N: Yes, if you're wondering, that opening AN was as cheesy as it sounded. Give me a break, I'm at that point right now where I'm so tired that I act a little tipsy. **


	8. Chapter 8

Maggie was in a state of shock. Here she was, dancing effortlessly (and, even more unexpected for her, _gracefully_) with the guy that she had had a crush on just last year. Of course, even back then it had been one of those "never-gonna-happen" crushes, and she had accepted that from the start. It was like adoring a movie star- you knew that you were never going to meet him, and that he was older and more successful than you, but you still loved his movies and had posters of him on your wall. (Not that she had posters of Joshua Greenwood. That would have been weird.) Besides, she had liked him when she was a freshman and he was a senior, and she had forgotten him not long after he left school. Even when he had come back as a student teacher, her frivolous feelings for him had not returned. Actually, though she was not yet ready to fully admit it to herself, she thought she might have moved on to someone else, someone closer to her age.

And yet, despite her fourteen-year-old desperation and certainties that Joshua would never even speak to her, there they were, stepping and smiling and spinning. It was the closest to bliss that she thought she had ever felt.

"I should go," she said, still grinning. She looked down and realized with some surprise that she was still in her costume. "It's almost midnight," she pointed out. "I need to get home."

"What are you, Cinderella?" he teased, releasing her hands. He reached up and ran his fingers through his hair, tousling it, and she couldn't help but notice that his face seemed to be missing something without bangs. She wondered if he had enjoyed their dance as much as she had. "You're a great dancer, by the way," he told her. "You have nothing to worry about."

"Thanks," she said, curtsying as she walked out, and then immediately after becoming extremely embarrassed that she had actually just _curtsied_. She watched him walk across the stage, probably to do some more stage crew work, and then spun around and flounced off to the dressing rooms.

Unfortunately, she was stopped before she got there. It really was late, and she was growing sleepy. She just wanted to go home, but apparently the universe had other plans for her. "Rooker!" she said, jumping a little. He had appeared as if out of nowhere.

"Hi, Maggie," he said. He seemed to be acting completely out of character. He also smelled like he was wearing some kind of unbearably strong cologne.

"Hey, Rooker," she replied, smiling politely. He was, after all, a fellow cast mate.

"You look really pretty," he said.

"Thank-you," she said, turning to walk into the dressing room. He leaned against the wall, blocking her.

"Listen, a few of us are throwing a party after all last show next week. You should come." She was inclined to say no, mostly because she was cautious about what "a few of us" meant, but also because his smile looked a little creepy. Still, she wanted to be cordial.

"Maybe," she said. As soon as she said it she realized that a noncommittal answer like that was the worst thing to say to someone, ever. She also remembered that a few weeks ago she had announced that she was enacting a personal mission to stop the use of evasive answers like "maybe" and "not right now" after she had missed out on seeing the newest M. Night movie in the theaters because her father had not given her a straight answer. "Or not. I might. Whatever." Well, that was worse than "maybe" and did nothing to help. "I have to go. Bye!" She ducked under his arm and fled into the dressing rooms, leaving him standing there upset and a little bewildered.

* * *

Shortly after Maggie left the stage to go to her dressing room, Henry and Jasper expanded their need for a good night's sleep by chasing the Smithson Specter through the National Museum Complex. They were finally getting back to their room after narrowly avoiding a confession to Jasper's father about why they were getting back so late.

"I'm sure it didn't mean anything," Henry assured Jasper as they walked into their room.

"Of course it meant something," he said, sinking onto his bed and kicking his shoes off. They landed across the room under Henry's hammock, and Henry irritably shoved them back to the foot of Jasper's bed. "She was dancing with him _without music_. That's the biggest cliché for a big romantic moment." Henry had forced the whole story out of Jasper in the parking lot of Smithson.

"Well-" Henry began, but was interrupted by the door swinging open. There was Maggie, back in her jeans and V-neck blouse. Jasper resisted the urge to scream at her. "Hey," he said to her.

"Hey." She smiled. "I know it's late, but I didn't get a chance to talk to you guys after the show."

"No, you didn't," Jasper mumbled, burying his face in his pillow.

"Is something wrong?" Maggie said to Henry.

"Nah, he's just tired," said Henry, leaning back in his hammock. "So what's up?"

"Well, you're not going to believe this, but I think Rooker Ryan was hitting on me after the show," she said. Jasper groaned something into his pillow. "Seriously, is he okay?"

"He, uh, he might be getting the flu," lied Henry. If he was going to cover for Jasper, he wanted to have a little fun with it. And also, Jasper should know better than to be openly upset in front of the girl whom he did not want to know why he was so upset. "Yeah, he's got a really bad stomachache. And he threw up earlier. Then he passed out. It's a good thing I was there, or he would have fallen face-first in all the-" Jasper threw a pillow at Henry with surprisingly good aim. "We chased the Specter through the museum," said Henry.

"You did?" asked Maggie, almost angry at him for not opening with this intriguing piece of news.

"Yeah," he continued, "but he got away." She looked disappointed.

"Okay," she said after some time, "my parents are probably freaking out. I should go home." Before she left, she straightened Jasper's Converse at the foot of his bed, unable to control her obsessive compulsiveness. "By the way," she added, "have you guys finished the homework Mr. Greenwood assigned?"

"There you go, yammering about him again," muttered Jasper, rolling over to face her.

"What?" she said, confused.

"About Josh," he said, close to hostile. "You yammer about him all the time."

"I do _not _yammer," she said, growing angry. Henry watched them worriedly but did not say anything.

"You do, actually," said Jasper. "You yammer. Yam, yam, yam, you'd think you were a sweet potato farmer or something."

"That was really bad," said Henry, unable to resist the urge to mock his best friend's lame jokes.

"Stay out of this!" snapped Maggie. Frightened, he settled back into his hammock.

"Why, don't like it when other people yammer instead of you?" Jasper said after a long silence. Maggie was furious.

"Jasper Bartlett," she growled, grabbing her purse and walking towards the door, "you are just… ugh!" Henry had learned that when Maggie was not able to find the right adjective, she just screamed in frustration. "And to _think_, I came over here to tell you…" She shook her head and ran down the stairs, her shoes clacking on the hard wood flooring. A second later, they heard the front door slam.

"To tell me what?" said Jasper, jumping up. "Tell me _what_?" He followed her out of the door, leaving Henry upstairs and wishing that they would leave the drama for the play.

* * *

"Mags! Come back!" yelled Jasper. He ran across his lawn to where she was getting into her car. "I'm sorry!"

"Oh, I'd reply, but you probably don't want to hear my _yammering_," she said scathingly, trying to duck into the car before he reached her.

"I didn't mean it!" he said. "I was being an idiot."

"You got that right," she said, leaning against the hood of her car impatiently. Despite the fact that she was mad at him, she was unwilling to drive off while he was trying to apologize.

"I'll make it up to you," he promised.

"How?" she said. "You know, this isn't the first time you've ticked me off this week."

"I'll come to your show tomorrow," he said. "I'll bring you flowers. Your favorites, Magnolias." He smiled in an effort to make her forgive him.

"Magnolias are not my favorite flowers," she corrected him.

"But that was my nickname for you in eighth grade," he said, confused. "Because you're Maggie. And _mag_nolias."

"Yes, I understood the nickname," she said. "That was really annoying."

"Okay, so what are your favorite flowers?" he asked.

"Lilies," she said.

"But your name is _Maggie_, not Lily," he reminded her, appearing extremely perplexed.

"You know, favorites don't have to correspond with names," she told him.

"Sure they do," he said. "My favorite gemstone is jasper." She raised her eyebrows. "I mean, I don't have a favorite gemstone. 'Cause I'm a guy." She couldn't help it; she laughed. "See?" said Jasper. "You can't stay mad at me. I'm delightful." She rolled her eyes, but nodded to let him know that he was forgiven. "What were you going to tell me, anyway?"

"Just that it really feels good to know that you and Henry are out there in the crowd," she explained. He nodded, slightly disappointed, and then helped her into her car.

* * *

Henry was sitting on the stairs, waiting for Jasper to come back inside with the verdict as to whether Maggie was still furious. "Did she just storm out and slam the door _again_?" asked Uncle Bryan, walking into the foyer.

"Yeah," said Henry. "Jasper chased her outside."

"Is something going on?" He had noticed his son become moodier and more sullen in the past few weeks.

"I think Maggie's just really stressed right now," said Henry. "I suggested that she should try some deep breathing and meditation, and she flicked me."

"Well, she can be like that sometimes," he admitted. He had known Maggie since she was ten, and he could clearly recall some of the drama that had occurred between her and Jasper, especially last year when his son had come home one day depressed and bearing the news that she had ignored him when he finally summed up the courage to ask her out.

"Uncle B?" said Henry just as he turned to leave.

"Hm?"

"If Jasper was upset about something, would you want me to tell you?" He was conflicted, unsure of the best way to deal with his cousin's issues.

"Well, that depends," he said. "In some cases, it might be better if I knew what was wrong. But also, if this is something that he trusted you with, it might be best if you kept it to yourself. You two are like brothers, and sometimes that bond is stronger and more reliable than the one between uncle and nephew, or even father and son."

"Okay," he said, resolved to keep it between him and Jasper. "Thanks, Uncle Bryan."

"Alright, I'm going to bed," he yawned, departing down the hallway to his bedroom. "You probably should, too."

"I will," said Henry. "Goodnight."

"'Night." He walked away, leaving Henry on the staircase, lost in his thoughts. Suddenly, his uncle reappeared.

"It's Maggie, isn't it?" he guessed. Henry smiled tightly.

"Well… yeah." Grinning, Uncle Bryan left once again and went to bed. Henry did, too. It was nearing one in the morning, and he was beyond ready to go to sleep.

* * *

**A/N: Please review. Even just to say :) . I don't want to sound desperate, but- oh, what the heck, I am desperate. Pretty please, with a cherry and a can of Caff Monkey on top? (Notice, my UH obsession remains a theme.)**


	9. Author's Note

**Okay, nobody hates chapters devoted to Author's Notes more than me, but this is important and could not wait. The link to the Facebook page for a DVD release of Unnatural History is:**

**http: / / www. facebook. com / pages / DVD-Release-of-Unnatural-History-Season-One /183490668333917 # ! / pages / DVD-Release-of-Unnatural-History-Season-One / 183490668333917**

**(without spaces). Like it. It will make a difference. Even if you don't have a Facebook, set one up and like this page. **


	10. Chapter 9

"It's Rooker," said Jasper, sitting down at their lunch table next to Henry. Maggie was sitting across from them, picking anxiously at her tofu burger. "Rooker Ryan is the Smithson Specter."

"Ah, so you admit it's not a ghost," she said, pointing at him with her plastic fork. A chunk of tofu flew off of it and stuck onto his shirt. He wiped it off while she glanced down apologetically.

"_Or_," suggested Henry, "what if Rooker _is _a ghost?" Maggie and Jasper shared an exasperated look.

"Okay, I propose we ignore all of Henry's ideas," said Jasper.

"The motion is passed," said Maggie, idly unscrewing the top of her Dasani water bottle. "So what makes you so sure it's Rooker?"

"Well, first of all, there are all the stunts he and the Emoticonvicts have already pulled," Jasper began. "And, he was there late last night, right before I saw the Specter in the museum. _And_, you said he was hitting on you. Just like the Phantom and Christine!"

"Yeah," said Maggie, "except I think there's a difference in 'Hey, wanna come to a party?' and 'Hey, wanna come spend eternity with me as a masked exile with a hauntingly beautiful singing voice?'"

"Okay, okay," said Jasper. He was used to Maggie poking holes in theories that he and Henry put forward. It helped to balance out their group dynamic and to stop them from doing something stupid when they were wrong. However, this time he just knew that he was right. "The biggest clue of all: He's the Phantom in the play!" Maggie rolled her eyes.

"I think you're jumping to conclusions," she said, bouncing in her seat as he did. Since freshmen year, they had had an inside joke that whenever the phrase "jump to conclusions" was used, they would both "jump" to conclusions. It was silly, and annoying to outsiders, but they liked it, and Jasper was happy to have something special that he shared with Maggie.

"I don't know, I think he has a good point," said Henry, disregarding the unexplained hopping the way he disregarded any and all conversations about social networking websites, Twilight, and Eminem. (And, for that matter, M&M's as well. He still hadn't been able to figure out if they were candy or medicine.)

"Henry, what did we say about ignoring you?" snapped Maggie. She hated it when the boys sided against her, and she hated it even more when (rare as it was) they were right and she was wrong.

"Motion revoked!" said Jasper. "Henry, you're back in the conversation. Say more things about how I'm right." Maggie rolled her eyes and stabbed at her tofurger viciously with her fork, sending crumbs scattering across the table. "Why don't you eat that thing like a sandwich?" he complained. "It's less unappetizing when it's hidden under the bun."

"This bread is stale," she replied, pushing the offending hamburger buns away from her.

"At least it's not moldy," Henry pointed out, then seemed to freeze. "Moldy bread," he murmured, looking off in the distance. "I think I know how we can figure out who the Specter is!" Henry leapt up, his cold spaghetti forgotten, and marched away.

"With moldy bread?" wondered Jasper, confused. "Does he expect us to follow him?"

"Apparently," said Maggie, pushing up her lunch and standing up. She and Jasper left the table and followed Henry down the hall.

"Hen!" called Jasper, jogging to catch up with his cousin, who was striding purposefully towards the museum. "Is this like one of those House MD things where some random, meaningless phrase makes you realize the answer to the bigger issue?"

"What's House?" he asked.

"Never mind," muttered Jasper.

"Why do you always answer 'never mind' when I ask a question?" he asked.

"Never mind," muttered Jasper.

"I met someone in France once who was experimenting with mold growth," explained Henry as they rushed through the hall. "She kept a slice of bread under video surveillance for a few weeks to keep a record of how fast the mold grew."

"This sounds completely irrelevant," complained Maggie.

"Don't you see?" asked Henry, surprised that they had not figured it out as quickly as he had. They stared at him dubiously. "Security cameras!" They had reached the museum, and he pointed up to a corner of the ceiling, where a black camera swiveled to greet the three.

"Of course!" said Maggie, understanding. "There's probably a recording of the Smithson Specter."

"Probably," said Jasper skeptically.

* * *

"Told you," said Jasper several minutes later, after they had convinced Garko to let them view the tapes. All they could see was blurry footage of Henry and Jasper from the previous night, chasing a masked hooded figure. It did nothing to help them understand who the Specter was. From what they could see, it could just as likely have been Hunter O'Herlihy as Professor Darkness. "Hey, what if it's-"

"It's not Morneau, Jasper," groaned Maggie. "It's never going to be Morneau!"

"Maybe that's what he wants us to think," said Jasper, but he stopped arguing. Henry zoomed in the screen as much as possible, desperate for answers. While he worked, Maggie hummed _The Phantom of the Opera_. "Do you have to sing?" grumbled Jasper.

"I'm practicing," she hissed. "I've got a big show tonight and I'm trying to freak out!" She resumed humming, but then stopped, looking stricken. "Oh my God, is it opera or Oprah?"

"It's opera, Maggie," said Jasper. Maggie sighed in shaky relief, and Jasper stared at her worriedly. Ever since she had begun working on the musical, she had seemed more and more stressed. He hated seeing her so distraught. Ordinarily, she was so collected, organized and together and vibrant. Now she was so caught up in her worries that it took her several tries to pour milk. "This play's really messing you up," he observed.

"For some reason, I get more nervous every show," she said. "It's like, if I don't screw up now, it's going to be the next time, and if not that time, then the one after it!"

"You should try taking calming breaths and just focus on your character," suggested Henry without looking at her. He was still staring at the screen, adjusting the clarity of the video.

"Or, you should picture everyone in the audience in their underwear!" said Jasper.

"Yeah, I think I like Henry's thing better," she said. She glanced down at her watch. "Guys, class is about to start. You two are both coming to the show tonight, right?"

"Oh, you know, I really wanted to catch 'The Sing Off' tonight, so…" joked Jasper. Maggie frowned. "Kidding. Of course we'll be there."

"See you," she sang, stepping out of the room. She looked a little like she had tripped, but Jasper was sure that, on her way to her next class, she was taking a chance to secretly practice her choreography.

* * *

That night, while Jasper and Henry were sitting in the audience, Henry munching on a bag of carrots that he had somehow managed to sneak in against Jasper's admonishments and Jasper furiously trying to take Henry's bag of vegetables to stop the loud and irritating crunching noises that kept emanating from the seat to his right, they began to notice strange irregularities in Rooker's performance as the Phantom. "Does he look taller?" whispered Jasper, wincing a bit as Henry chomped down on a carrot.

"You can't really tell height on stage," he shrugged, reaching into his Ziploc bag. "I think I'm out of snacks."

"What a tragedy." Jasper squinted up at the stage, sure that there was something _off _about the Phantom. Something about the way he moved, or sang. Maybe Rooker had just become a better actor overnight or something, though he highly doubted it.

"He was bound to love you when he heard you sing," the Phantom sang.

"He's just different," insisted Jasper. "I don't know how, but…"

"You will curse the day you did not do," bellowed the Phantom, "all that the Specter asked of you!" Henry and Jasper both froze, staring forward in astonishment.

"What did he just say?" whispered Henry.

Suddenly, on what seemed to be the Phantom/Specter's cue, the prop chandelier came tumbling down, though Jasper was sure that it was not supposed to fall at that point, and all the lights on the stage were immediately extinguished. Though not before they saw someone who was unmistakably the real Rooker Ryan suspended by ropes from the ceiling.

* * *

Henry: Hey, Jasper, what are you doing on the computer?

Jasper: I'm "liking" the Facebook page for the DVD Release of Unnatural History, Season One! It's a great cause, and if the page gets enough likes, then Warner Brothers might be convinced to go through with the DVD/Blu-ray release. And also, this sounded a lot less corny when we rehearsed it in the hall.

Maggie: Seriously, like the page. It _will_ make a difference.

Jasper (singing): The more you know…

Maggie: Shut up, Jasper.

* * *

**A/N: By the way, those were the real characters at the end. Yes, that's right, the actual fictional characters. I didn't write that.**

**Don't forget to like the page! We just got over 300 today! **

_http: / / www. facebook. com / pages / DVD-Release-of-Unnatural-History-Season-One /183490668333917 # ! / pages / DVD-Release-of-Unnatural-History-Season-One / 183490668333917_

_(without spaces). _

**I really need to finish this story. I'm thinking 2-3 more chapters, including an epilogue. And once it's done, I have so many ideas for the next story!**


	11. Chapter 10

Henry and Jasper sat rigidly in their seats as the lights around the audience slowly brightened and Mr. Friedrich, the director, walked out to the middle of the stage. He tapped the microphone he had carried out there, sending an unpleasantly scratchy sound of interference around the auditorium, and then spoke. "We will have a short intermission, and when we return the role of Christine will be played by Jennifer Brown and the role of the Spec- Phantom will be played by… well…" He tottered off the stage without finishing his announcement.

Henry was leaning forward in his seat, prepared to stand up, feeling the adrenaline rushing through his veins. His empty carrot bag drifted to the floor, forgotten. "Jasper," he said, his fingers tapping excitedly against the armrest of his seat. "I know you always say that we have to stay out of it, but for once could we just-"

"Right behind you, buddy," said Jasper. He was already standing. With a wry grin, Henry got out of his seat and ran with Jasper to the backstage area, where Mr. Friedrich was standing. He was shaking in his anxiety and looking around as if the culprit of the disaster was walking down the aisles handing out playbills. "What happened to Maggie?" demanded Jasper. He doubted that the change in actresses was merely a way of giving her understudy a chance to shine.

"She disappeared when the chandelier fell," said Mr. Friedrich, looking utterly distressed. "Along with whoever was playing the Phantom." Jasper was about to announce that he was sure it was Rooker, that the Smithson Specter had been Rooker all along, when he paused and put together everything that had happened that night. Rooker was _supposed _to be the Phantom, but wasn't. And he couldn't have disappeared, because they had all seen him hanging from the ceiling. Which reminded him-

"Is Rooker… is he…" Never before had he realized how difficult it was to say the word "okay", but perhaps that was because he was teetering between using the word "okay" and the word "dead." Of course, he had encountered death before, and Rooker wasn't the most important person in his life. It was probably just the fact that this prankster, the Specter, would go to much greater lengths than they had expected that had Jasper so shaken.

"He's fine," the director said. "Just a little stunned. We're working on getting him down right now." Jasper exhaled in relief. "We suspect some kind of anesthetic had him disoriented, either chloroform or something very heavy cracking him on the head."

"Why are you even going through with the rest of the show?" said Henry. The audience was already beginning to leave, probably afraid that something would happen to them, and he was shocked that they were still going to perform the musical while Maggie was missing. As an answer, Mr. Friedrich held out a handwritten note.

_On with the show, or else._

_-Smithson Specter_

"Why is the villain always so uncreative?" Jasper groaned. "'Or else.' It's like they can't think of what to write, so they just put something generic."

"On with the show, or else… Maggie dies," said Henry, finished the sentence with what he had inferred. Jasper gulped.

"Now that's creative."

"Alright," said Mr. Friedrich in his raspy voice, "now we all know what happens when you don't do all that the Specter asks of you. I need a new Phantom." Rooker must still have been pretty out of it.

"Didn't the Phantom have an understudy?" said Jasper.

"He's too afraid to go out there," he admitted. Jasper had to repress the urge to laugh. He had never imagined a drama kid being terrified of acting in a musical. Of course, the addition of a possibly murderous haunting complicated showbiz.

"I'll do it," said Henry, much to his cousin's surprise. "I've seen it every night and I've helped Maggie with her lines. I know how it goes."

"Okay," said Mr. Friedrich gratefully. "You should go put on the spare costume." He walked off, probably to prepare Jennifer to play Christine. Henry turned to Jasper.

"Go save the damsel in distress," he said unable to contain a grin.

"I will," said Jasper, "but if she ever finds out that we just called her that-"

"I know, we're dead." Henry smiled, but then grew serious. "She was standing in the middle of the stage, which means…"

"Trap door!" He hadn't forgotten the secret passageway to the DOUM rooms that Henry had discovered after two classmates had been kidnapped. "I'll get her," he promised. "Good luck."

"You're supposed to say 'Break a leg,'" Henry reminded him.

"Somebody already broke her leg," said Jasper. That dancer was still in the hospital, having her leg set in a cast.

"That's right," said Henry, remembering. "I'll see you later."

"See you," said Jasper, slipping behind the curtain. The stage was abandoned, but beneath the shattered rubble of the prop chandelier, he thought he saw that the trapdoor was unhinged.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Maggie's wrist hurt. She'd twisted it wrong last night and it was still a little sore, and now this mystery Phantom/Specter man was yanking at it, dragging her down the barren hallway. "Please stop pulling me!" she finally snapped. She was calmer than she would have expected of herself, but it was probably because she knew exactly where she was: an inner cavern of the Division of Obscure and Unknown Miscellany. Of course, it was still possible to die down there.

"No," he grunted. "Come with me." As if she had a choice. She wished he wouldn't grunt; she felt like she might just be able to determine who it was from his voice under the distortion. If only he would take off the stupid mask.

"Seriously, I'll walk. I'll follow you," she promised. He stared at her through the almond-shaped eyeholes in the plastic prop mask. "I'm surprisingly cooperative when I'm being kidnapped." He paused as if to consider it, and then shoved her in front of him, free of the wrist manacle. He nudged her to keep walking, and she did so. She thought about thanking him, but then rejected that idea. He was, after all, taking her somewhere against her will most likely to harm and/or murder her.

She couldn't think of any at the moment, but there were probably worse ways to spend a Thursday night.

The Smithson Specter suddenly directed her into a long hallway that she had never noticed before. It was narrow and poorly lit, which seemed to indicate some sign of either some ominous occurrence or a bad movie cliché. She was hoping for cliché, because movies tended to have happy endings. She trudged down the hall ahead of him, wishing that there were other hallways branching off this one so she could escape. Rather than alternative routes, however, the walls bore nothing but cobwebs and a scratchy pale orange paint job.

He pushed her into a dark room, and instinctively she backed against the wall to the left of the doorway. As soon as the heavy door swung shut, he flicked on the light of a bare bulb suspended from the middle of the ceiling, illuminating a tall vanity table in the corner of the room, the mirror cracked. Like it always did when she was nervous, her mind went into hyper drive and wondered how long ago that mirror had been broken and how many years of bad luck the breaker still had left.

Not that she believed in luck. Or specters. What she did believe in was a violent man much taller than herself who had her isolated in a windowless room that contained God knows how many weapons in the drawers of that vanity table with a broken mirror that was going to get some idiot killed one day after slipping on a damn banana peel.

"Are you going to take your mask off and reveal yourself," she asked, trying to disguise her fear as irritation, "or are you waiting for some kind of mysterious upside-down Spiderman kiss?" His hands curled into fists.

"I thought you were different," he hissed. "I worked so hard and I thought you, of all people, might _appreciate _what I was going for." He wasn't using his grunting disguised voice anymore.

"Oh my God," she gasped, recognizing who it was. She knew who he was now, but nevertheless he peeled off the white mask so Maggie could see his face. "_Joshua_?"


	12. Chapter 11

Jasper was sprinting down a bare, dank hallway somewhere deep in the bowels of the National Museum Complex, trying not to think about irony. Trying not to think about anything, really, because thinking meant thinking through, and thinking through meant having second thoughts, and second thoughts meant turning around and running away from whoever or whatever it was that had stolen Maggie away from him. He was afraid of thinking about the dangers he faced, but he was absolutely terrified of thinking about the dangers she was facing. The idea of anything happening to Maggie just made him want to crumble to the floor, kneel down and give up.

It was awful, but he wasn't blaming himself. Sure, he may have bitterly chastised himself on the way through the trapdoor and on toward the DOUM rooms about not putting the pieces together sooner and protecting her, but this was one of the things he had learned from Henry's mistakes rather than his triumphs: if you blamed yourself, it clouded your emotions and made you question every decision you made. And Jasper couldn't afford to question his decisions, because his decisions were the only things propelling him forward, tugging each foot out from under him and dragging him towards Maggie and her captor.

"Maggie?" He doubted she was in any state to answer, but making noise to cover up the dripping, scratching sounds of the rats and pipes and God-knows-what surrounding him was somehow comforting. He considered humming to calm his nerves and mask the noises, but for some insane reason the only song he could think of was Ke$ha's "We R Who We R," and even he knew that it was the opposite of appropriate.

He was beginning to wish he had switched jobs with Henry, despite not knowing any of the Phantom's lines. Of course, the last time he had tried to act in any kind of school play was his fifth grade class's performance of Robin Hood, and he had unfortunately distinct memories of throwing up onstage, whilst still in character. More than once.

As worried as he was about the Smithson Specter, he was beginning to think that he had been assigned the less harrowing task.

* * *

Meanwhile, up on the stage of the auditorium, Jennifer Brown, in character as Christine, was projecting quite loudly for such a short person and clearly enjoying her moment in the limelight despite the fates of Rooker and Maggie. Her attitude proved to Henry what Dante had explained to him in one brief visit to California: some people really would do anything for stardom.

Henry knew he didn't belong up there with her, struggling to remember the lines and humming along with the music to avoid trying to sing. He wanted more than anything to be down in the DOUM rooms with Jasper and Maggie, tracking down the Specter instead of filling his shoes as the Phantom. He had a knack for adventuring, he was notorious of it, and the fact that he had given up a chance to do something exciting for a greater cause must be proof that he was growing up, that he was adjusting to the modern world and his behavior was actually benefitting from it. His parents would be proud.

Henry fingered the prop rapier hanging in a sheath on his side. He'd been told it was a prop, but he was fairly certain that a prop rapier wasn't all that different from a real one. He'd seen the play several times, and knew that somewhere (hopefully there would be some kind of cue or pointer, he was mostly winging it and following what little he remembered) there was a scene where the Phantom dueled with the rapier.

Well, at least there was one thing he knew he would do right.

* * *

After everything, the search for the Specter, his job as a student teacher, the dance they had shared after the last show, it was him. It was Joshua Greenwood, the nice guy, the one who had helped her. The one who had assisted with technical direction to help her play go smoothly. The one who had done literally everything in his power to point suspicion away from him. Looking back on it now, she wondered how she could have missed it. It seemed so obvious, of course it was him. He'd been unwilling to leave the school even after graduating, he'd been there after every Specter fiasco. He'd worked so hard to keep them off his tail. But for what?

"I need a star," he hissed, staring at Maggie. "You don't know how long I've been looking for you. There's a man in Los Angeles sitting on an explosive new screenplay and I'm locked in for the lead, but he needed my costar. He needed the perfect actress, someone fresh, someone no one had ever heard of. But nevertheless perfect."

She was astounded, flabbergasted. And seriously concerned about the logic of the human race. "Wait, this is about… a movie?"

"It's explosive," he repeated insistently. "You have no idea the impact it would have, Margaret." He tossed his mask into a corner and took a step toward her, forcing her back into one dark corner of the room.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," she said, holding her hands up. "Laura Jeanne Witherspoon gets Reese as her celebrity name, but I'm stuck with _Margaret_?" It was a technique she'd learned from Jasper, hiding fear from enemies with a never-ending sense of humor. And she really hated the name Margaret.

"You're not taking this seriously."

"Are you?" She had actually expected him to kill her, not offer her a role in some movie. "Are you _seriously _knocking people out up there and breaking people's legs for money?"

"I'd do more than that," he said. "And it's not money, it's _fame_. I would kill for fame, literally. I'd be willing to take a life for fame."

"That sounds like the speech from _Fame _with a horrible twist," she muttered, backing further into the back corner. As much as she didn't like the idea of isolating herself in a single corner, it was preferable to standing any closer than to this psychotic maniac.

"It has to be you," he said, advancing and making Maggie wish there were more depth to her little alcove hideaway. "You're _her_. You're the one, you're perfect."

"Yes," she said sarcastically, "next to imitation, kidnapping is the second best form of flattery." She knew he wanted her to leave DC with him and go to California to be in this movie with him, and she knew that if she didn't come willingly he would take her. She could see it in his feverishly glinting eyes. Her only comfort was that if he wanted her to act in a movie, she would have to be alive.

"Maggie!" Jasper burst into the room, eyes wide, staring right at her. She flooded with relief (and also wondered why, with all the planning that he seemed to have put into this, Joshua hadn't bothered to lock the door.) His eyes soon swiveled to Joshua, and he took a step back in shock. "You?"

"V, W, X, Y, Z," he retorted harshly, grabbing Jasper's wrist in one sudden movement. "No one is supposed to know that I'm taking her with me."

"Except for the hypothetical millions of fans that are supposed to watch this hypothetically explosive movie," she said from the corner.

"Movie?" asked Jasper, confused.

"I'll explain later," she said.

"No, you won't," said Joshua harshly, throwing Jasper against the cement wall. "There won't _be _a later." She was about to ask him what he meant when his intentions became all too clear. Oblivious to Jasper's feeble punches with his free hand, Joshua pinned him up against the wall. "Hand at the level of your eyes, Bartlett," he snarled as he pulled out a hulking switchblade and held it to Jasper's neck.


	13. Chapter 12

When Jasper had imagined himself being held with a knife to his neck (which was not often) he had always expected that it would sober him up. That he would stiffen in fear, his voice would raise an octave, and he would obediently give whatever information or cash amount his assailant was asking for. That he would be scared witless. He never expected that he would suddenly find his situation laugh-out-loud hilarious.

He bit down hard on his lip, worried that if he actually gave into the insane desire to laugh it would give Joshua more than enough reason to slice into his throat. He had no idea what was so funny; maybe just the fact that he was about to die for a movie. Or maybe what he had always heard was wrong, maybe fatal danger was more comedic than anyone had ever insinuated. Whatever the reason, the expression on Maggie's face was enough to make him realize the severity of his situation. She looked horrified, furious at Joshua for everything he had done. She also looked extremely worried for Jasper's life, which he couldn't help but feel happy about. Concern that he might die was close enough to love for him.

"No one's going to take her away from this," Joshua promised. "She's a star."

"You're _insane_!" yelled Jasper.

"Insane, or simply dedicated to the divine art of theater and acting?" he mused. He sounded oddly relaxed to be holding a knife to Jasper's neck. Perhaps this was not his first hostage situation.

"Insane!" he replied. He thought he heard Maggie's breathing from the other side of the room, heavier and faster than it should have been. "Mags, don't worry," he called across the cement room to her. He could feel Joshua's breathing tickling his ear and once again had to resist the urge to laugh.

"Don't worry?" she snapped, sounding exactly the way she would if this were an entirely casual predicament. The familiarity comforted him. "He's going to kill you!"

"I wouldn't say that," said Jasper after a moment. He was also trying to sound normal, in case she might also be comforted, but in his own ears he appeared to be coming off anxious and terrified. "Might rough me up a little." Joshua's grip on him tightened and he brought the knife closer. Jasper felt it graze the skin of his neck, and he was certain that a thin line of blood had suddenly appeared there. "Okay," he said. He did nothing to contain his fear. His voice squeaked. "Okay, he's probably going to kill me. So, uh… before he does…" He didn't want to die without telling her everything he'd been keeping from her. He remembered what Henry had told him about being annoying, and the words he had typed into his digital diary last night before he fell asleep. "There's some stuff you should know."

"What?" she said. She had also lost her calm façade, and he could see that she was officially panicked. He thought he noticed a clump of her hair clutched in her left hand.

"I'm the one who hacked your locker and stole that Snickers bar," he confessed, trying to build up the courage to tell her what was really on his mind. "I know you ate a hamburger last October," he continued. "And I've been in love with you since seventh grade."

Maggie stared across the room at Jasper. She didn't know what to say. She just… didn't know what to say. But she knew what he would say, if their positions were reversed, and she figured that would be better than silence. "You ate my Snickers bar?"

A smile broke out on his face, but then evaporated when he realized that it might be his last. "Alright, look," said Joshua. "Maggie, if you come with me to Hollywood and never try to come back here or contact anyone to take you away from me, I'll let him go."

"Wha- you were just waiting to figure out what relationship we had so we could use it against us!" said Maggie.

"Basically," Joshua said.

"Well, that's ridiculously cliché," pointed out Jasper. He was beginning to regain some of his confidence despite the knife still uncomfortably near his jugular vein and he wondered if he had really been more worried about admitting his feelings to Maggie than death. "And we don't tolerate clichés. High-five, Maggie!"

"Stop acting like I'm not going to kill you," he growled.

"All's fair in love and war," said Jasper.

"You just said you don't tolerate clichés," Joshua reminded him.

"Dude, give me a break, I'm inches from death." Banter. It was the only thing that kept Jasper from freaking out.

"Shut up!" commanded Maggie. Evidently, she had noticed that Joshua was adjusting the position of his switchblade, watching carefully as if he were ready to kill Jasper in an instant. "Joshua, I'll come with you. I'll do what you say. Don't do anything to him!"

And then the door swung open unexpectedly a second time. The first thing Jasper noticed was a long, thin rod protruding from the doorway to the left of him. It seemed to extend as it jabbed forward into the room, and at the end of it was a rounded handle. Wrapped around that handle, he saw a hand- a calloused, tan hand attached to an arm attached to the one person he was happiest to see.

"You couldn't have come like a minute earlier?" yelled Jasper. "I thought I was going to die, I told Maggie everything!" He wished that his cousin had appeared before he'd revealed all his deepest secrets to Maggie.

"I'm happy you did that," Maggie said.

"Well, yeah, me too," he amended, "but I didn't exactly want to spend such an important, rom- really important moment with another guy's arms wrapped around me."

"You finally told Maggie how you feel?" said Henry, momentarily distracted.

"I hate to break up this session of Teen Romangst, but I do have a job to do," Joshua said, shifting around Jasper to avoid Henry's rapier but still keeping his switchblade fixed on Jasper's throat.

"It's this guy?" said Henry, surprised. Evidently, he'd been just as clueless as Jasper and Maggie about the true identity of the Smithson Specter. "What's going on?"

"Well, to sum it up," offered Maggie, "Jasper's in love with me, Joshua's an evil maniac, and apparently I'm a really good actress." Her last statement must have reminded Joshua what he was fighting for, because then he pulled out his own rapier and swung it towards Henry's. He blocked it expertly and jumped forward, and then they began to fence. In all the commotion, Joshua slipped away from Jasper, freeing him from the blade. He ran around the room, dodging the viciously swinging of their rapiers, and hurried to where Maggie was still huddled in the dark corner.

"Come on," he said, taking her hand. "No one puts Maggie in a corner." She groaned.

"Really? Is this the time?" she complained, letting him pull her away and sliding against the wall to reach the door.

"It's always time to quote awesome eighties movies," said Jasper. Now it's your turn."

"We're running for our lives, I'm not going to quote with you!" she yelled. At that moment Henry backed into them, still battling with Joshua. His blond hair was matted with sweat and he still wore his Phantom costume. "Run, Jasper, run!"

"Early nineties, but close enough," he said, pulling her through the door. Together they rocketed into the narrow hallway. Maggie slammed the door behind them, sure that Henry could probably fend for himself.

"Call your dad," she ordered. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed, but a moment later-

"I don't have any bars," he said. He ran to the main hallway and held his cell phone as high as he could, but to no avail. Suddenly, there was a thump from inside the room. Maggie froze, feeling her spine begin to shake. Who had fallen?

Then Henry walked through the door, a somewhat sheepish grin on his face. "He smacked his head against the vanity table and fell down," he announced, sheathing his rapier. Jasper sighed in relief. "I think he's breathing, though."

"Darn," said Maggie.


	14. Chapter 13

They were seated in a row, Jasper in the middle flanked on his right by Henry and on his left by Maggie, all three sets of eyes following Jasper's dad around the room. They'd become accustomed to this, as a similar situation occurred almost every week. Bryan Bartlett was delivering his post-crazy adventure lecture, which he'd been doing without fail since the incident with the Fortuna ruby. They never listened to him, though, which was why, week after week, they ended up back in his office, forced to listen to his chastisement.

"Henry," he began, "one of these days, you're going to have to stop poking your nose into everything you stumble upon."

"Yeah, that's likely," snorted Jasper, earning a glare from his father. Nevertheless, Bryan continued.

"And Jasper, you should know better than wandering around in the DOUM rooms, given all the rogue maniacs that seem to turn up there." He was probably referring to people like Agent Fitzgerald and Joshua Greenwood, but Jasper took his words to be a snide jab at Henry, a frequent inhabitant of the DOUM rooms and as maniacal as they come. "Maggie," he said, turning to her. She glanced up, guilt evident in her eyes. It made Jasper smile. After all this time, she still managed to feel guilty when the three disobeyed the dean. He and Henry, on the other hand, were only sorry they'd been caught. Sure, they could see where it might have been a better idea to let the police handle it when Maggie disappeared, but where was the fun in that? The cousins still didn't think they deserved all this blame, but apparently, Maggie was ready to own up to the heinous crime she had committed by being kidnapped. It was as if Bryan thought they brought all their trouble upon themselves. "I understand your need for privacy, but if something important is going on with you, don't try to keep it completely to yourself. Especially from these guys."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled to the floor, apologizing for… what? Dancing with Joshua? Jasper shook his head, glad that his dad's speech was about to wrap up.

"And Jasper," added Bryan, "quit leaving your laundry basket out in the middle of the hall, I keep tripping over it." He smiled. "I know that last one had nothing to do with the Smithson Specter fiasco, but it was really bothering me. Okay, you're free to go."

o-o-o-o-o-o

Later that afternoon, Maggie, Jasper, and Henry were lying exhausted on the couch in the Bartlett living room, staring with glazed eyes at the bearded man in sunglasses jamming out on the television. "Why," said Maggie, "are we using your super cool plasma 3D TV to watch a rabbi play electric guitar?"

"Couldn't find the remote," grunted Jasper. Everything was so natural, so easy, as if just last night Jasper hadn't been held at knife point. Joshua was in the hospital, still under surveillance in case he had a concussion, and then he was on his way to the Department of Corrections for assault and attempted kidnapping. (Jasper was disappointed that "potential girlfriend stealer" didn't factor into his arrest.) He still hadn't been able to get a moment alone with Maggie, what with her parents fussing over her almost being taken to California. He'd managed to avoid a conversation with Henry about the events in the DOUM rooms, but he knew that his ability to evade closure would be short-lived.

"I should go," sighed Maggie, pushing herself off the couch. "It's getting late."

"Of course it is," said Jasper without looking away from the television screen. "Can't get earlier, not unless we're living inside Benjamin Button." He could practically hear her rolling her eyes as she grabbed her jacket off the back of the couch and headed to the door.

"Hey, Jazz?" she said, craning around the corner from the foyer. "Can I talk to you for a second?" Bracing himself for a letdown, Jasper took a deep breath and stood up, his legs carrying him around the couch faster than his mind would have liked and giving him no time to prepare. Henry smirked as he stretched out, now having the whole couch to himself.

"Jasper," said Maggie quietly when he reached her, "what you said in the DOUM rooms-"

"Forget it," he shrugged self-consciously. "In-the-moment thing. Hostage mentality, or whatever."

She raised an eyebrow, doubtful. "Really?"

"No." There was no hiding now, he'd ripped off the metaphorical Band-Aid when he'd admitted his true feelings to her yesterday. All that was left to do now was deal with the stinging wound. She leaned closer to him and, to his utter shock, kissed him. It was quick, too quick for him to react, and he could feel her smiling.

"All I ask of you," she whispered, punning on one of the songs in her musical, "is that you let me be valedictorian." She pulled away, grinning, and with a last goodbye wave to Henry, she left. Jasper stood there, gazing at the door through which she'd just walked, and despite her kidding nature, he somehow knew that whatever interaction they had tomorrow would be more than friendly.

"Unbelievable," he sighed as Henry walked up behind them.

"She is, isn't she?" he grinned, clapping his cousin on the shoulder.

"Well," said Jasper, the dreaminess leaking out of his attitude now that Maggie was gone, "I think that was an adventure we won't forget."

"You forget the other ones?" he said, sounding a bit offended.

"I try," he said, not afraid to admit it. Henry was always dragging him into dangerous situations that he would rather avoid, and if he couldn't avoid them, he might as well pretend they had never happened.

"Come on," said Henry, sounding a little hurt. "You don't remember when we shot Sputnik on a rocket? Or when we tracked down those screaming triplets?"

"No, I remember those," he said.

"Hey, remember the time I broke into the Army Medical Reserve to save all those sick kids?" Henry said excitedly as they walked back into the family and room and collapsed back on the couch.

"No," said Jasper confusedly. "But I remember people telling me about it."

"That musical thing was kind of cool," Henry admitted. "I think Smithson is doing _Rent _next year. Might be fun." Jasper grunted something noncommittal and kept his eyes on the TV screen. It wasn't until Henry started to sing that he turned to look at him. "Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six-hundred-" Jasper lobbed a pillow at his face.

"No."

THE END

**A/N: Well, it took a little longer than expected, but there it is, the final installment of "The Phantom of Smithson." I want to remind everyone to "like" the Facebook page for the DVD Release of Unnatural History, Season One. **

**http: / / www. facebook. com / pages / DVD-Release-of-Unnatural-History-Season-One /183490668333917 # ! / pages / DVD-Release-of-Unnatural-History-Season-One / 183490668333917**

**And make sure to tell everyone you know to like it, too! **


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